Displaced
by Plastic Emotion
Summary: She had two choices. Face the trial she was doomed to fail, or deceive a fool into ensuring her survival. And as these thoughts filled her data drive, she realized the one true fear she had was knocking on her door. She would be erased, and no one would remember her. And that wasn't about to happen. [Tenn, Zim, Skoodge, Dib, GIR, and more]
1. Displaced

**Displaced**

**Summery**: _She had two choices. Face the trial she was doomed to fail, or deceive a fool into ensuring her survival. And as these thoughts filled her data drive, she realized the one true fear she had was knocking on her door. She would be erased, and no one would remember her. And that wasn't about to happen._

* * *

Space.

The eternal void.

There was no beginning nor end to it. It simply continued. Her large synthetic optics had been monitoring the vast nothingness for who knows how long now. She was surprised they still functioned after all that damage. All that wreckage.

What a disaster of a mission.

And it had started off so perfectly, too.

She had arrived on Meekrob none too long after the Great Assigning. She had finally earned her place as a great Invader...a just title. Her base safely nestled. Her SIR functional and obedient. Her disguise nearly flawless.

Invader Tenn.

Worthy.

Dedicated.

Loyal-

She winced, closing her eyes for a moment, and the ruby glare against her optics disappeared for the while as she wheezed a breath. Loyalty. She had...failed in that department. But, the circumstances! Surely they would...

No; logic would not allow her hopes to take advantage.

She had abandoned her post. Invaders did not _abandon_ their missions. To do so was unspeakable...unheard of...a crime within itself. To spare a planet was to defy the Irken Empire. The Armada. The Almighty Tallest.

The Control Brains would place her on trial for sure. A drone to be mocked before all Irken kind. Ridiculed publicly. And forced to endure the three strips.

Decommissioning.

Discharge.

And...death.

Her pak would be removed from the body it supported. One could not exist without the other. She would die a slow and painful, stupid death. And the core of her being would be deleted. Eternally wiped from existence. The small speck she represented in the universe would pop, and it would be none the wiser. The most shameful of expiration.

Her face tucked into her small hands, antennae curled loosely along her head, the idea of failure haunting her, but not as horridly as she would assume. No, there were worse thoughts haunting the young Irken soldier trembling in her battered voot cruiser.

To be _truly_ forgotten...

She had heard stories. Oh, the stories she had heard...

Of criminals and space clowns alike...

But who would miss such creatures? The universe was better off without them both.

But for an Irken _soldier_.

An Invader.

Ultimate dishonor. To wriggle and squirm as her bio shell shut down...her pak removed and destroyed...her essence...deleted. And never again would she or anyone like her be allowed to exist again. Her forehead knit as her fingers curled, the verge of tears on the brink of existing before she swallowed everything down and opened her eyes once more. Her voot shield was cracked, but luckily enough, the inside of the cruiser was still fully functional. That, if anything, was perhaps the true reason she had been spared. Had those miserable little robots managed to pull any necessary wires...

Shaking herself free from the nightmares, the young Invader pressed a claw against her temple in thought. Her cover had been blown. Meekrob was truly being invaded, but not how she nor the Tallest had imagined.

All the lost potential of that planet...the lost inventions...the lost knowledge.

She winced.

As Invader, it was her duty to have regained control of the chaos. To right the wrongs that had been done onto the planet in order to save it and her mission. To lose a planet to the inhabitants was shameful and the lowest of standards, but to destroy it was foolish. After all, if planets were obliterated during an invasion, where would the Irkens put their stuff? There were always more things to build. To experiment. To grow. But without a base...without her disguise...how could she have done otherwise but flee? It had been her only chance of survival. She had been seen in true form, and the Meekrob were fully aware that an Irken invasion was in their midst. They would have killed her...or worse.

Captured.

Drained her mind of all its data.

Operation Impending Doom II ruined.

Because of her _incompetence_.

She would be tossed in with _that_ lot. Service drones. Janitorial. And her height would not spare her a thing.

So she had spared the Armada from being entirely found out. She had escaped with her knowledge of their invasion. But the _Meekrob_ knew something was up. And they would be prepared now should any invader take her place. They were a brilliant kind. Perhaps brilliant enough to create a resistance...

A chill ran down her spine.

The Meekrob would be scanning tenfold for any Irken technology. Scrutinizing. They would destroy on first assumption. The Meekrob hated the Irken Empire with a powerful passion anyway. It would hardly require much to blast to bits anything associating themselves with that particular race. Popularity was not something that concerned the Irkens. Who cared how popular you could be when everyone and everything _feared_ you? Power was a much more enticing reward. But with power came danger. Danger for those against you...and punishment for those who failed.

Her finger tapped, blinking into oblivion.

Her precious SIR unit had been destroyed in the mass chaos. Or at least, her physical form, anyway. Tucked away in her pocket was the robot's internal memory chip which she had been able to salvage before jumping ship. For what purpose, she hadn't a clue, but the android's memories served a special place in the history of it's existence. Tenn felt so, at least. It was only right to protect such things when no one else would. For now, it merely lumped along the Invader's side, but that was of no concern at the moment. Only that the robot itself was gone. And Tenn hadn't much to talk to aside from herself.

STAT would've made decent company.

Her shoulders rose in a small sigh, contemplating.

"Computer." Her voice sounded weary, but still firm in its command, eyes softening when the program tossed a bit of static before clearing its own feminine tone.

"I require a new set of coordinates."

"Specification?" the program replied, a curious note to its voice.

Leaning back in her seat, Tenn closed her eyes, tucking her hands along her gut. She gently trembled as the idea rushed her mind, refusing to come to terms with what she was about to do. She wouldn't ruin herself with the idea of disgrace. She had already fallen to the bottom and come to terms with that. There was nowhere else to go. Irk? She would be destroyed on contact. Meekrob? What was _left_ of that planet, anyway. Planets conquered were Irken run, and planets yet to _be_ conquered were either being invaded or already natural enemies of the Armada. There was nothing for her, except for perhaps a black hole where she could hide...and live out the rest of her pathetic existence in secret.

"Search for the furthest known corner of the galaxy..."

"Action complete."

Her eyes closed gently, relaxing her shoulders.

"Our destination is one light year passed those coordinates."

"Understood, Mistress."

"Computer."

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Deactivate the homing beacon...and cloak the vessel."

"Yes, Mistress."

Her chest rose in a slow breath. It was going to be a long ride.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow...This show's been in my life since 2002 and here I am today with a story. Took me long enough. I'm rather excited to start writing for this category, though. There's just so much potential. And listening to those script reads of unfinished episodes? I could barely contain myself. Anyway, prepare thyself for more chapters in the future, because where would any of this be without Zim? Hm? Hm?


	2. Only A Half Lightyear

Only Half A Light Year

She had been in the middle of a recharge when her eyes popped in a static jolt to the alarm resonating within the vehicle. Shaking her head, her pak disconnected roughly from it's station, eyes darting about in a frantic stir, "Computer! A diagnostic! Identify the problem!"

The cruiser spat static, and the entire voot jerked forward, throwing Tenn from her seating onto the control board. Grunting, the young Irken brushed herself off, surveying the surrounding space about her. There seemed to be a moon of sorts in orbit, bright and reflective of the sun blazing across. Running a hand along her head, Tenn knit her forehead, calculating her travel. This...this didn't seem right.

"Computer! How long have we been traveling?"

"...H-Half a light year from furthest known c-...c-coordinates."

Smacking her fist against the board, the Invader arched an eye, antennae twitching as the static crackled and popped, dispersing. "Only half...?" the Irken muttered in thought, scratching along her chin, "Why have we stopped?"

"The fuel levels have dwindled, Mistress. Exact travel time only allows for an hour of continued acceleration. Beyond that, and the Voot will automatically fall into stasis. Shall I search for a refueling reservoir?"

Curling a knee in, Tenn stretching her back, tilting her head toward the back of the ship. "Are there no reserve fuel tanks?"

"I took the liberty of utilizing them while you were in stasis, Milady."

Nodding lightly, Tenn tucked an arm over her knee, pressing between her eyes, "Yes, yes...how long was I in stasis?

"Your history feed suggests stasis since our last checkpoint."

Hand dropping from her face, the young Irken's eyes darted in thought. Drifting toward the computer's data screen, she tapped the surface, squinting as she searched for the last noted checkpoint and tapped the marker on the digital map, searching for their current coordinates. Without much discovery on this end of the galaxy, the numbers were correct, but the planets and moon markers were a bit dodgy. This was fine. She had no interest in what these planets had to offer, anyway, but the numbers in her head did not lie. She had been charging for about three months. Her gut tightened in hunger as her organs began to wake from their life support, reminding her that she was not entirely cybernetic, nor ever would be. She required some decent snacks.

Well, okay then. Perhaps these surrounding planets may have _something_ to offer. Maybe.

Adjusting her seating, Tenn licked her lips as she chewed along the bottom one. She would only last so long without some edible eats. "Scan for lifeforms. Perhaps the creatures out here are naïve of the Armada's existence..."

"_If I should be so lucky..."_she quietly thought, eyes skimming the few surrounding planets.

"Irken technology detected."

Her eyes popped in sheer stupor, jaw hanging slack for a brief moment.

"Wh-_What_? How can that be? How is that even possible? These aren't even marked coordinates on the Irken map! Who would The Tallest send all the wa-" She leaned forward, mercilessly typing at the screen and searching the database for all possible Invaders in the nearby area. She skimmed, skimmed, and skimmed some more.

No one.

Not even close.

Not _one_ Invader had been assigned so far from Irk.

Who was this fool hidden away in the very nook of the universe? Surely The Tallest were aware of...

Her forehead knit. Perhaps not. Perhaps this...stowaway...was also seeking refuge. She could only guess their reasons. The Irken race was big enough to get lost in. But she couldn't imagine the Control Brains forgetting a single pak. It all came down to data at that point, and as Super Computers...memory was kind of their thing. Unless...

Her head tilted, peering out at the strange mass of blue and green, the white of it's atmosphere swirling about in slow motion. It seemed a peaceful planet, but what did she know? Irk looked rather beautiful from space with all it's glowing lights and power generators.

She sat in silence, pondering her options. Was this Irken a threat to her? Was this their sanctuary as well? Was this ghastly displacement their punishment?

"Computer...search for the nearest Invader within the five closest planets."

"Search results: one."

"Identify."

"Invader Tenn."

The slight anxiety that had burrowed into her gut deflated for a moment, only confused. "And there's Irken technology around here?"

"Yes."

"Locate."

The bright planet she had previously gazed at popped on screen in full glow, the title beneath dictating, **EARTH**.

"Eeurrrth...?" she mumbled, squinting an eye.

"Earth." the program corrected promptly.

"What records are there of this planet?"

"Next to nothing, Mistress."

Optics shifting to her control panel, Tenn tapped her finger against it in thought, "And yet, an Irken has found their way here...and you're positive I'm the only recorded Invader in the area?"

"Positive."

Her jaw pouted as her options juggled.

"Shall I hail them, Mistress? Fuel levels dangerously low. Fifteen minutes at best."

Her teeth clenched as she glanced between the screen and the shield, generated image verses the real thing. Fifteen minutes of travel wouldn't get her very far. And without food or fuel...she would wither and die of her own accord. Clamping her hands to her head, the Irken groaned knowing her options had dwindled down to one choice, and it wasn't much of a choice to begin with. She hadn't come this far to expire. Pressing along a temple, she sighed and dusted herself off, "...Locate the Irken signal."

The screen dropped the image of Earth, now replaced with a static sound wave, a flash of green darting across the screen until an image of Earthly dormitories filled every corner, odd looking creatures walking about and enjoying their day. Her eyes skimmed the Earth beings, observing their general look until the focus of the screen zoomed in on an odd looking version of the domiciles and locked.

"Signal located. Hail?"

Scratching her chin, the Irken spied the home, debating the potential of a base or not. Her eyes darted to the fuel levels...

"...Hail."

The location disappeared, the insignia of the Irken Empire hovering directly center before a giant couch filled the screen, an odd looking beast framed as decoration staring back at her. Her face contorted into confusion, leaning close to identify such a horrid creature-

"HI!"

Flying back into her seat, the young Invader clutched her chest as she wheezed, her widened eyes hardening at the eager SIR Unit grinning back at her.

"Master! How'd you get in the TV?" the bot questioned curiously, his hands scoping about as if trying to free the image he was witnessing. "Can I come, too?" Brushing her hand stiffly against her uniform, the Irken adjusted her seating, noting how the droid's focal lenses were a bright cyan instead of their automated red...

A SIR Unit.

There WAS another Invader.

Her eyes glared up at the roof of the Voot as if to peer into the very circuits of the computer that had misled her-

"What are you talking abo-_Who are you talking to?_"

A shrill answered voice ripped through her antennae, forcing an instant wince and near tearing of her eye. Not even Vortian tampered sound waves were so brittle against the sensors.

The bot on screen only grinned as he looked to his left, giggling to himself until he was shoved from view, his body reverberating as he slammed across the floor, "M-My Tallest! _Forgive_ me, I had no idea you were planning on contacting me to-..."

A small Irken occupied the screen, his panicked tone falling into flat silence as he stared at the caller, obviously disappointed, and barely curious. His eye perked as his antennae flattened, finger lifting in lazy point, "You're not The Tallest. _What is this?_" he suddenly snapped, teeth gritting in defense.

She, however, remained speechless.

_Zim_? _That's_ who was on this rock? The one Invader who not only invaded, but destroyed everything he touched? How was this planet still in _one piece_? She was better off floating off into oblivion. But it was too late now. He knew of her existence. And of her coordinates, if he had cared to glance at those during the call, but he was too busy scrutinizing her through the screen, jaw protruding in irritation. Knowing his history, it hardly took much to set off the little devastator. Eyes darting in quick thought, she righted herself, hands tucking behind her, "Invader Tenn, requesting a docking station by order of The Tallest."

The small Invader's eyes popped, leaning close into the screen as if that would clarify anything for him, "Invader Tenn? I thought you were on Meekrob...?"

"I thought you was on the TV!"

Zim's eyes flattened as he glanced off the screen, but his curiosity had heightened over the span of the call. Glancing at her fuel levels once more, Tenn grew panicked, but remained outwardly calm, fingers tapping along her arm behind her in impatience.

"Why would The Tallest-"

"I'll explain everything once docked. My fuel levels are running low and I'd rather not be towed. I'll be there shortly. I expect snacks." she added sharply, and ended the call before he could question anything. She had exactly six minutes to hone in and land while the invisibility layer could still manage.

She also had six minutes to conceive the greatest lie ever told in her entire life.

* * *

Author's Note: _I normally don't update so quickly, but I feel like this and the previous chapter go a bit hand in hand as an opener for the actual story. So...here you go._


	3. Survival of the Fittest

Survival of the Fittest

_**Six...**_

As first in her class when it came to battle technique, Tenn's mind scrambled the broken puzzle pieces together, creating from it an image she could clearly see. Simulations had always tested her wit. Her grit. Her ability to think on her feet during the worst possible situations. To use the resources around her and utilize them for her own benefit. For survival. Logic had always been her forte. Creating and manipulating, she was easily able to turn the tables on her enemy...or so she thought until she met the Meekrob.

This wasn't a simulation.

It was her life.

_**Five...**_

Her hands gripped the steering, eyes firmly knit as the planet's gravitational pull directed her speed faster than she had anticipated it. It was pulling, and she was falling fast.

"Computer! Maintain your balance! This is a shameful display of sloppiness!" she barked, nearly tumbling back into her seat as the voot itself managed a healthy honey glow. Her eyes knit even further. This simply wouldn't do. She was coming in too fast. Such a speed would spark in the atmosphere of this planet. She would be seen.

Wait.

Would she?

Her eyes skimmed along the cloaking manager, the levels dropping dangerously low. She hadn't much time left before her entry would be a display for all humanity to witness. Her eyes closed for a brief moment, recalling on a time when she had desperately lost control as a youth during a simulation test and nearly lost her spot among the aviation unit. Every young Irken required basic aviation skills in order to travel about from conquered planet to planet. Invader or not, business demanded travel, and most required deals be settled in person. Every Irken had the potential to become _something_. It was how well their biology reacted to the situations at hand that determined their pak programming. Synthetic optics could only work as well as the head that supported them. Could your neck react to proper timing? Did you maintain them well? Blindness was a handicap an Invader could not afford, even IF they could recover from it. A few hours delay could mean death.

A few seconds was all it took.

_**Four...**_

Her eyes popped open, recalling on the drop in the center of her gut and how it had nauseated her, how she had screamed and _let go of the steering_ when she should have pulled up, how the simulation pod's door opened up and how she had tumbled out, dazed and confused before realizing the laughter growing louder with every second had been aimed at her. And never had she felt so _small_.

Sette had always been an Irken of diligence and had very little patience for sniveling fools who could not hold up to his expectations. The armada was not going to maintain the reputation it had with cowards. He often wondered how such smeets could be assigned with military statuses if they couldn't even handle simulation testing, but it was beyond him what the Control Brains processed for their future. Obviously their choosing meant _something_ in the history of the Irken race.

And some of those smeets were _something_ alright.

He had closed his eyes, pressing his fingers deep into his sockets before shooting an arm to the end of the line, "Who here can remind Tenn why we _never let go of the steering?_" he snapped, and the young one had flinched as she scurried to the end of the completed testers line, staring wearily at her boots.

"Because it would send you to your unnatural doom!"

"Because your ship could es'plode!"

"'Cus –Oh, yeah. I was gunna say that, too."

"_Because_," he growled, looming over the batch, "Whether or not you _survive_, your pak could remain in tact and confiscated. Every bit of training...every piece of Irken history...every plan of success you could ever know of the Empire could be _compromised_ by an enemy retaliator. And that's not _good_ for us. Getting killed is the least of your worries. Getting caught endangers the Empire." Crossing his thin arms behind him, the adviser marched across the metal path separating the militants in training, pausing adjacent to Tenn as his eyes remained firmly ahead, "Do _you_ wish to put the entire Empire in jeopardy, meal worm?"

Her eyes hardened for a moment before erecting her salute, "No, sir!"

"Then explain your test results."

Her hand remained at her brow line, though her eyes flickered in shame for a brief moment. Her classmates stared on with sly smirks, eager to see where this carried on to. Tenn could be the class drone if she were any less obedient. To watch her tumble down the ladder of shame was refreshing for some, and a stress reliever for others. She claimed she was going to be an _Invader_ some day. Only the best of aviation and militants were considered for that draft. She was a riot. She truly was.

_**Three...**_

"I allowed my biochemistry to interfere with my logical data. Sir."

Her voice echoed throughout the chamber, but the silence that followed echoed much louder. The youths of her class stared at her before their eyes darted to Sette, his heel slowly lowering in place from its lift. That had been a rhetorical question.

They _all_ knew that.

But Tenn remained firm to her ground, as neither flinched nor released salute as he turned to her and slowly stepped before her, the clicks of his heels a stab to their guts. Gazing down at the Irken trainee, Sette planted his feet firmly, tilting his head back.

"Repeat that, cadet."

Her muscles flexed as she took a slight breath, eyes knit sternly, "I allowed my biochemistry to interfere with my logical data." Her eyes flickered upward, sharing a brief gaze with him before falling back down, "Sir."

"You're admitting that your bioshell managed an override of your pak?"

She swallowed roughly, but refused to slack her stance, "Sir."

"You're admitting a flaw in design? A manipulating weakness? A prompt for failure?"

Her teeth grit before her eyes darted to the left, as a fellow classmate had decided to interject, "Bioshells can't–"

"FOOL!"

The young Irkens jumped in place, all snapping into salute along with Tenn as Sette marched between them, his antennae flat against his head, "Have you learned nothing of the synchronization of your pak and bioshell? One cannot function without the other, at least, not permanently. Your paks maintain the primary function of your bioshell, and your bioshell supports the capabilities of your pak. Your bio brains may be able to catalog information for a time, but they cannot store the data in a tangible format like your paks can. Every living organism requires a kind of charge to keep them going. Our paks provide us with this charge. They are the sole equipment that keeps us alive and who we are. It is the single most important thing you will ever have the honor of carting around."

He paused for a moment, glancing at Tenn. She blinked in response, antennae twitching.

"But they can be manipulated by different anomalies. Your bioshell, itself, being one of them."

_**Two...**_

"What Tenn reacted to was _fear_."

All eyes fell on her as she avoided their gazes, staring ahead at the metal pole on the other side of the testing chamber. Dark and dank as it always was, but it had felt usually bright for that moment, as the spot light remained on her the entire while.

"Fear is _illogical_. It does _not_ derive from the pak. It is a result of your bioshell and the chemistry within it. Joy. Adoration. Anger. Frustration. The list is rather extensive. It's a weakness that we have yet to eradicate, but we haven't for one of few reasons."

He shrugged his shoulders, "Enjoying our successes is worth the effort rather than just knowing we did it. It's payoff. And a motivation. Imagine conquering a planet and feeling absolutely no pride? No self worth? No accomplishment?"

"That would be lame!" a student cried out.

"Yes it would!" Sette agreed, snapping a finger toward the voice, "But with that kind of chemistry affecting your bio brains...so does the possibility of override. Override of logic. Override of processing data." He squinted his eyes in disapproval, making his way back to Tenn. Leaning forward, he stared her down, though the creature never wavered. Her arm was rather tired, though, but shaky as it was, she refused to set it down. She couldn't.

...The fear wouldn't let her.

Fear of disappointment.

Fear of shame.

Fear of failure.

"Tenn...has realized her shortcomings. With this knowledge, she can manipulate what she must in order to _properly_ pass the next round. And I expect results." he noted darkly, waving his hand as he passed on to the next trainee, "At ease."

_**One...**_

She found recharging at half life always gave her a decent amount of time to sneak out early for simulation practice. The rest of the day resulted in grogginess, but a true Invader would never allow themselves to be manipulated by their own weakness. And so she trained. Simulation after simulation, and her hands refused to leave the steering, even when her mind processed bleakness. Even when she screamed. Even when her nerves trembled and dared to betray her. Those digits remained glued.

Opening the pod door, she wiped at her chin, finding progress, but not perfection. This was...not fine, but practice took time. She would try again tomorrow. Locking the unit, she turned on her heel, immediately slamming back into the machinery with a start. Leaning against the opposite pod was Sette, drinking a soda, casual as anything, but Tenn found herself in immediate salute. He was her superior, after all. Waving a hand in dismissal, he pointed at the pod she had exited with his drink before taking a sip, "What were the results?"

Wincing, Tenn cleared her throat, pinning her arms behind her, "S-...Sixty over one hundred."

Her antennae slouched back as he nodded, enjoying his drink at her expense. Arching an eye, he crossed an arm over, "You're not Invader material." he stated, and she said nothing, her hand tightening about her wrist behind her. A small smile leaked from the taller of the two, shaking the cup, "But you're getting there."

_**Warning! Fuel Replenishment **__**Mandatory**__**! **__**Possible Disappointment Ahead! Sorry!**_

Her hands gripped the steering tightly, teeth scissored in desperation to keep the vessel as steady as possible as she waved away the notices alerting her on screen. She was falling beyond decent control, and the voot itself had barely enough juice to manage a shield wiper. The craft sliced through the atmosphere, ripping through clouds and winds as she soared over communities beyond communities of human dormitories. The voot rocked chaotically, jolting her left and right, but she leaned tightly, and closed her eyes for but a moment, pulling the steering bracket back and out as hard as she could. The voot faced the skies for a second, spiraling out of control and shot through the neighborhood of her target.

The metals around her screeched and whined in their damage, possibly flying off in pieces as she suddenly hit something from under, causing the entire vehicle to capsize, but at a fraction, decreasing its speed. Eyes widening, she felt her muscles suddenly relax as the world around her slowed to a final clear image, and her optics shut off the external world, the rest of her slumping into catatonic state.

_**Fail-safe Initiated**_

_**Reboot in 5...**_

_**4...**_

_**3...**_

_**2...**_

_**1...**_

_**Reactivate**_

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! So far I'm getting some positive feedback with this story, so I'm glad. I'll be working on a few final projects and a short animated film in the coming weeks, but I do hope to keep updating this nevertheless. Writing keeps the mind fresh._


	4. The Best and Brightest

The "Best" and "Brightest"

_**4:12:34:02**_

The numbers flashed quietly as they counted down, blinking bright red. Tilting her neck, she found her head growing heavier and heavier with every movement, hands shakily twitching in place. It was only when her eyes actually opened did she realize what those numbers meant.

Lurching forward, her chest slammed over her legs, left eye twitching in reflex before her torso spasmed, her tongue flopping out of her mouth as soon as opened. Fingers trying to grip at anything, she felt the drool leak down her chin, antennae perking in bio shock, "Nnnggguuuh-"

Her eyes slumped to her right as something moved, and with all the strength and coherency she could muster, her claws gripped onto the creature, throttling them with all she had left. "G-Gibbe...bah...muypaaak..." she slurred, hearing the metals of the object in her grip slam together in her panic.

The result was laughter.

"GIR! What did I say about touching any living creature on the examination table?"

"_I_ for_-_get!"

A smidgen of silence passed before the robotic voice yelped out once more, "Can I play with that one now? It woke up!"

"Hmph?"

A scatter of blurred images passed through Tenn's optics, but the familiar voices clotted her mind, casual and nonchalant over the situation she was in. She would throttle them both. A smear of red and green crossed her vision, and her arm waved toward the mass, "Nuuukkk..."

"Ah, yes. Invader Tenn. We've been expecting you. 'Cus you called. We made sandwiches!" the enthusiastic voice sang, suddenly barking, "GIR! Where are the sandwiches?"

"I made _seven_!" the bot chanted happily, darting about Tenn's mind like a ghostly image. The cramping was nearly unbearable as she did her best to hold out, breathing a chore...consciousness a blip.

"Where _are_ they?"

"Ohhh yeah! Wait. Uhhhhaaaaa-I forget."

"You miserable little –Minimoose! Locate your master some sandwiches! And Glutemunchcrunch. I want somma that."

"Nyah!"

"Excellent. Now–"

Slumping further, Tenn found herself drifting, sensory organs going haywire as she tried to clasp on to the last voice she would ever hear. Grating...ignorant...fool. She had doomed herself to the fate she had tried to escape from. Perhaps this was her punishment. To slowly die before the idiot who thought himself so great. Had she thought greatness of herself? She certainly failed at maintaining it, if so.

"KAH-_LICK_!"

As if the very breath of life touched upon her, Tenn's spine erected firmly, eyes twitching before glowing a vivid carmine, and feeling less sick, she rubbed at her face before glancing right, the image of the tiniest of Irkens clear as could possibly be with a grin of triumph. Growling, Tenn curled in to gain her momentum, darting out to attack before her reattached pak began to glow midair.

"**Reactivate!**" it stated calmly, but the electrical jolts that fried her through were hardly as gentle. Slamming to the floor, her body spasmed as it recovered, eyes knit with a weary groan. With a few blinks, she managed to retrieve her vision once more, finding her placement on the floor rather degrading when she realized Zim was looking down upon her in quite the literal sense. "Good as new. I baffle myself with my greatness." he stated in congratulations to himself, treating himself to the snack a floating little plush had brought him. He stuck the sugar stick into his mouth, watching his guest pick herself up from the floor, shakily gathering her footing before using the examination table behind her for support.

She had half a mind to smack the snack from his hands, but chose to dart an accusatory finger at him instead, "What were you _doing_ to my pak? I could have _expired!_"

"Nonsense," he dismissed, "Zim knows what he is doing. Your pak received minor damage during your break through the atmosphere. You should have reactivated about six minutes ago, but thanks to my ingenious skill set, all is well. Except for my reception dish. Your horrible landing obliterated that." he muttered darkly, popping the stick back into his mouth. Glancing back, Tenn felt along her pak, finding nothing wrong program wise...

Her eyes lifted, deserting the Irken before her to monitor her surroundings. She appeared to be in his lab, the massive screens and wiring oh too familiar to be anything but Irken. This was what her computer must have scanned. But if his technology could be receipted from outside the planet's atmosphere, couldn't the beings of this planet notice that as well? Shaking her head, she squinted about, finding experimental projects in motion throughout the room before brushing herself off and turning her attention back to him and that floating little toy.

His attention was at the core of the cup in his hand, scraping the goods from within as his tongue poked from the side, bright round optics oddly curious. He wore the uniform of an Invader, pressed and neatly tended to despite his obvious scientific quarries. His antennae perked healthily along his head, reacting to his mood easily enough, unlike the floating creature next to him. Its face never changed, nor did it do much else than float loyally, eyes darting off in opposite directions. Possibly a creation of Zim's most likely, but she hadn't the time to question it. Stabbing the stick back into his cup, the Earth bound Invader glanced up with a tilt to his head, "Now..._what are you doing here_? Why would The Almighty Tallest send you to Earth? This is _my mission_! Shouldn't you be on Meekrob, _invading_ or something?"

And the Zim she (and most of the Irken race, for that matter) was most familiar with sprang from his very core, voice belting and gristly demanding.

His spine curved in, pointing at her as he protected his snack with the other, "You're here to take my _mission _just like Tak_,_ _aren't you_! I will have no more of this nonsense delaying my progress any longer! First Tak, then Skoodge, now you? Is the whole _armada_ going to interrupt me before I can properly conquer this floating ball of dirt? If this is some kind of test The Tallest have set for me, I happily accept. They will see how truly worthy I am of the title Invader!" he growled, fingers pulsing inwardly before Tenn shook herself from the accusation, crossing her arms behind her.

"Skoodge?" she murmured curiously, eyes glancing about, but the small Invader huffed, whipping his hand in dismissal. "_Hardly_ an Invader, that Skoodge. He managed to finish his mission with a bit of luck, that's all. Now that fool haunts me as if my mission were his vacation. Invaders don't take vacations! They take missions! _Missions_!" he cried, shoving the sugar stick angrily into his mouth before giving Tenn a once over, eyes knit in suspicion.

Tenn remained calm and collected, mind processing the new information.

Tak...

Tak...

That didn't ring a bell, but she knew of Skoodge. He had been with her at the Great Assigning. Skoodge had completed his agenda...and was relaxing on this planet with Zim? Why hadn't he returned to Irk? As much as Zim's blather rattled against her antennae, he did bring up some interesting points.

However, it was no secret amongst the Irken race that Zim, dedicated as he was, was not truly of Invader status any longer. She recalled on the day clearly as each of the top soldiers had earned their place on the podium, standing before The Almighty Tallest –she could still remember the pride she had felt, knowing she truly deserved to be there. Perseverance had paid off in the end. She _had_ tried harder. Day by day, week by week, year by painstaking year. That test had proved it all. She had been ready.

Finally.

And those who had once laughed at her now looked upon her with great respect and dignity.

Her hands had clutched at her sides when she had been assigned to planet Meekrob...a planet of pure energy beings and sworn enemies of the Irken Empire. The Tallest had entrusted her with this dangerous assignment, but should she pull it off, she would be a worshiped heroine. She had retreated to her previous spot among the rest of the chosen Invaders with the absolute belief that her successes would be great as would all that derived from an Irken worthy of the title Invader.

She remembered wincing when Zim had interrupted the ceremony and admitted escaping his life long banishment for a mission he believed he was deserving of. It was no secret that his destructive capabilities were something quite legendary, but turning such a skill on your own planet was looked down upon in many societies. Irk held no exceptions. And shamelessly he had begged and whimpered in front of the entire Irken race and _universe_ for that matter (broadcasting was kind of a big deal) until The Tallest took a gamble and sent him off to his eminent doom.

Except...Zim was still alive.

And...he still maintained that malfunctioning SIR Unit she had witnessed The Tallest assign him with.

And...he still believed he was an Invader.

He was blinded, living in a fool's world within a fool's dream. However, the Earth creatures appeared not to have caught on just yet. Zim was still quietly (or loudly) living among them after all this time. And if Skoodge had finished his mission already, he was a more than capable ally to assist Zim in his conquest. If Zim _utilized_ him, that was. Her eyes knit in thought, realizing that a bit of silence had passed between them, and his answer had not yet been delivered.

"Why have The Tallest _sent_ you, Tenn?"

"My sandwiches?" she responded, head tilting as if glancing for them. She had to bide her time. She had to think of something. What believable tale could she fabricate –Wait a minute...

Her eyes glanced down feeling a slight tug on her elbow and found the cyan eyed robot happily waving in a cheerful greet. "Hi!"

"Ah, yes. Sandwiches. Minimoose!" Zim called out, and the small plush zoomed and hovered over the bot, tenderly butting the top of the android's head with his belly. The top case split open as a tray popped out containing the missing sandwiches. "Nyah!" the smaller one chirped, and Zim glared at his original minion as the creature giggled shamefully, tucking his hands behind himself. "I keep them fresh!" he announced, grabbing one eagerly, and by food deprivation, Tenn found herself grabbing two and taking a huge chomp out of one of them. It tasted so amazing...

Anything did during starvation mode.

"Now, _tell me!_" Zim's voice dipped, swiping a sandwich for himself. Wiping the crumbs from her face, Tenn swallowed the glob in her mouth.

"It's been over a year since you've arrived on Earth, Invader. What is your progress?" she demanded, her voice rather authoritative. She watched as her fellow Irkin's eyes popped in surprise, knitting defensively.

"It's gooood." his voice sang in guilty nonchalance. "Why do you ask? _Plenty_ of Invaders have taken longer than this to claim a planet. The humans of this dirt rock are a filthy grimy bunch. You wouldn't believe the things they do...the things they _eat_." he shuttered, "Savages."

"And has Invader Skoodge attributed to your research or active plans in any way?" she continued, building on as much information as she could possibly get.

Grunting with an eyeroll, Zim poked the stick back into his mouth, "_I _am the Invader here. I don't need Skoodge to do anything except witness my amazingness once I've overthrown this horrible little planet."

His under bite protruded in thought, taking a bite from his sandwich as he waved it about, "The Tallest have entrusted me with that much. Which brings me back to the question of why are _YOU_ here_?_" Antennae vibrating, Tenn ignored the screech and finished her second sandwich, eyes darting to her boots then back up again. "The Tallest have promoted me." she stated smugly, eyes scanning for any doubt in the loud Irkin's face, but he seemed more than fascinated, honestly.

"Promoted? Under what cause?"

Her eyes darted about, holding her wrist behind her, though her legs firmly glued to the ground, "...For invading Meekrob." she uttered, but it was loud enough for him to ear. Loud enough for him to question himself, and loud enough to raise more questions after the awkward silence that followed. "You invaded a planet and they promote you like that? Wooow... –hey, wait a minute! Promoted to do _what_?"

Clearing her through, Tenn firmed her shoulders, head high, "The Tallest have placed me as an observational agent over current Invaders. It's kind of a big deal." she added as he tucked a curious hand under his chin in thought, contemplating her words.

"A big deal, you say? And what exactly is your responsibility to The Tallest?" he questioned as he arced an eye, snagging another sandwich before GIR trotted off aimlessly about them, still balancing the tray upon his head. Teeth poking out in thought, her mind skimmed the very idea, "W–I actually–I observe you." she tossed out, eyes skimming over the monitors to her left. Upon the jumbo screens were schematics for a project currently in the works, and the molecular break down of some Earthly object. Scratching along her gut, she pointed at the screens, glancing at him, "The Tallest are under suspicion that a rising might be in the works against the armada."

"_Hmm?_" the smaller Irkin interjected, antennae popping, "A _resistance_? Who would be foolish eno-"

"Exactly!" Tenn cut off, standing her ground. With a sharp swivel, she marched into a pace as she cushioned the half truth. It was hardly an unknown fact that many species throughout the universe wished for nothing more than the fall of the Irkin race. However, the possibility of an actual resisting retaliation was so far below the charts of recognition, it was barely worth the thought.

But it was a thought nonetheless.

"The Tallest are readying the armada for any such attack to snuff out the very idea, however, such attention to detail requires absolute dedication. My purpose here is to monitor and collect data as you maintain your mission and successfully complete it. You report to The Tallest, do you not?" she questioned, and his head tilted curiously, heavy suspicion filling those large eyes.

"Yeees..."

"You report to me now." Tenn stated simply, glancing back to the screens in half a turn when Zim tossed the cup from his hand, waving his sandwich wildly, "What is the meaning of this? What makes _you_ so qualified to interfere-"

"Not interfere." she noted quickly, flicking a bit of lint from her uniform, "Your mission is your own to complete. You're free to utilize whatever and whomever you choose, but interference will not gain the Empire a thing, now will it? I will merely monitor your techniques, contemplate your adaptations, witness the life and potential this planet has to offer, and report all you wish directly to The Tallest. I'm simply here to manage the small affairs of communication transit. As a fellow Invader, you understand the severity of the situation. The data I collect will allow The Tallest to properly assess the future for this planet. For the good of the Empire, of course. The Tallest will be quite pleased with you Zim. They trust you." she noted with a shadow of a smile as the smallest of their race beamed in self pride.

"Yes, yes. They honor me with their wise judgment. It'll only be a matter of time before I hand this planet to them on a platter worthy of Zim." he hummed cheerfully, taking a chomp from his second sandwich and savoring it. Releasing a tiny breath of relief, Tenn remained quiet as her mind raced, rather proud she had spent all those months studying psychological manipulation. Unfortunately, the Meekrob hadn't been so easily coaxed. They required easing trust and time.

But not Zim.

He was reasonably doubtful, but even the tiniest of compliments stirred his ego to override his logic. She simply had to watch her step was all.

"I think I'll call The Tallest now." she heard a murmur through chewed mush, tone still joyous though it twisted a knot in the center of her being.

"D-Did you not just-"

"Oh, I heard you." he nodded easily, marching over to the baseboard of his screen and tapping out of his recent data, "But I must assure them that all _will_ go well. They needn't worry so much to have assigned an overseer of my mission. It's pathetic enough that Skoodge chooses to stay here, but containing you as well would simply be a misuse of your training. Zim needs no monitor." Ignoring the guest behind him, Zim crossed his arms along his back, eyes resting peacefully, "Computer!"

Wincing in place, Tenn clenched her teeth as the program seemed to yawn before response, "What?"

"Hail The Massive. The sooner this is all settled, the sooner I can get back to my ingenious plans."

"Kay."

The Irkins stood in silence as the program grunted and sighed, screens shimmering and displaying nothing more than white noise. Smiling in relief, Tenn relaxed and straightened her posture. That was right. Zim had said it himself. Her landing had destroyed his reception dish, which meant any outside contact was going to be hindered in the time being. This would buy her more time.

"Hah? Computer! I gave you an order!"

"Yeeeah. But the dish thingie is broken so...I got nothin'."

Eyes knitting, Zim stared at the mess of black and white before growling in frustration. "Another _thing_ I'll have to _fix_, but for the time being I'll have to leave it. The humans will be resting their brains at this hour and construction will only bring suspicion. I have school in a few hours anyway." he sighed, scratching along his chin. Turning on his heel, he gazed firmly at Tenn, forming a slight shrug, "Eh, sorry. There's just not enough room in this cramped up base. I mean, my lab is...in my lab, Skoodge claimed the basement, GIR monitors broadcasts on the TV upstairs, and the computer lives everywhere else. There just no kind of accommodation." his voice noted in false disappointment.

Tenn glanced up as the computer answered, "There's plenty of room in the ship bay upstairs."

"And Skoodadoo's been gone four days! He's gettin' me a one o' them meal toys!"

Glaring firmly at the bot who had popped out of a tube big enough to house him, lazily falling into a foul grin, "Ah, Skoodge. Always quick to jump the gun, never one to check the calender. The Great Foodening should be around...now. Ooooh well." he chuckled, quickly falling back into the reality that there was still one too many Irkins in his base. Arcing an eye, Tenn remained quiet, skimming possible weaponry about her. Anything was useful. Zim was a known tinkerer. His strength depended on the objects he created more so than physical combat. That would be useful in a potential repair of her Voot...as well as STAT. But if worse came to worse, her combat skills were decent enough.

After all, he was so very small.

With a small grumble, he waved her toward the elevator, a foul face pulled, "GIR! Let's go! I don't want you touching anything down here. My project can't afford anymore delays." he grunted with a side glance at Tenn as she entered the tube. Leaping over a trash bin, the bot rolled into the lift with them, voice oddly obedient, but only for the brief moment the words had left his mouth, "_Yes, my lord!_ I'm rolling!"

"Minimoose! Keep an eye on those downloading files! Alert me as soon as they're complete!"

The creature rolled upside down, wiggling his nubs, "Nyah!"

The doors slowly shut on the trio as Zim grinned, "That's a good Minimoose. Computer! Take us down to the Voot Cruiser repair bay. You may have survived your crash, but your Voot received extensive damage. Once your ship is fixed we can find you a more adequate base." Zim noted as the elevator dropped, eying GIR dirtily when the bot yelped, "Or you can live in our attic! Mmmhahh!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Phew. Done during train rides and the like between trips to the studio. Updating this may get a little tight within the next few weeks, as I have to animate a short film, but I'll try to squeeze time in when I can. _


	5. Invasion of Privacy

Invasion of Privacy

The trip down to the repair bay was only but a few moments, however for an Invader who had just escaped a compromised mission, a trial, death, a half leap year across the universe, a near fatal landing, and an additional scrutiny from the armada idiot who could just as easily ruin her survival tactic, those moments stretched into near hours as the lights of the lift flickered along the walls with each submerging floor. She found it odd that his repair bay was so far from his docking station (if that was truly in the attic), but she was far too mentally exhausted to waste the brain cells she could still muster on the tiniest of matters. Where Zim chose to arrange his layout of his base was his own doing.

She would have placed them side by side.

But shaking herself and tightening the grip she had on her own wrist, Tenn pulled herself from her analyzing habits, eyes darting to the SIR who had decided to eat the remainder of the sandwiches stored in his head, munching and smacking similar to the beastly Rat People of Blorch. He seemed to be enjoying them well enough before belching, wiping his small hand along his belly with pride. Shrugging his shoulders, the flat of his head opened once more, popping out a small pink plush with googled eyes, and giggling, he clutched it eagerly, squeezing the chirps from it as it wheezed between his pressured pinches, "Nyeheh, hi, pig! Oink, oink, oink."

Tenn's vision shifted to Zim when the doors opened, revealing a rather open area, appropriate for housing multiple vehicles if necessary, but the only bit of broken down technology loitering the area was her own, and it looked in a rather shameful state of being. The size of the hanger itself infantized the Voot, multiple screens looming over the area as well as a magnification laser in order to display a better view of the tinier pieces during dismantling. In the center was a power generator to recharge the electrical aspects of any vehicle, as well as power any tools required to work. The rest of the room was lined wall to wall with storage, housing doodads required to tinker. Though as vast and spare as the hanger was, it seemed oddly tended to, tools dispersed along the floor, schematics and blueprints displayed on a few of the screens.

It would raise the question of how much time Zim actually spent in this room, but the thought hadn't occurred to Tenn quite yet.

Her eyes scanned the Irken before her, observing his sturdy posture as he crossed his arms behind him and armored his chest, an irritated protrusion of his jaw forcing a few teeth to jet from his gums. His antennae twitched and flattened with every sound the SIR Unit made, eyes constantly flickering between directly ahead of him and the bot itself. Aggravation seemed to be a popular trait of Zim's, aside from overbearing pride and his lust for adoration. Strange how such a tiny thing like himself could contain such large qualities.

Tenn wondered how such attributions hadn't managed to override and short circuit his pak by now.

She blinked when his squinting gaze darted at her, taking his first step to march out into the bay, "What?" he muttered darkly, and she followed, optics falling on the robot once more.

"Your SIR Unit emulates free will." she answered calmly, finding a change of internal subject matter would be wisest.

Maintaining her position as an observational agent would be a slight challenge, but not impossible. As a decently ranked Invader, she had earned her merit through observational tasks and making the right calls, understanding the enemy inside and out before the prime opportunity for attack. She would handle this situation no differently, and true to her word, she would have to observe and study the entirety of this planet in order to blend in like a shadow.

But with this level of study also came Zim.

Residing in the same bunker would require communication, collaboration, and a bit of harmony. She would have to observe the tiniest of traits as well as the obvious ones, from the twitch of an eye to the tone of a yell. The rotation of his wrists to the level of excitement he used depending on his mood. To scrutinize him would be nothing more than absolutely necessary to ensure her status, and yet, this felt strange to her.

It felt...wrong.

Enemies were analyzed for their down coming. Weaknesses sought out, turned against them. She had been prepared for such techniques. Trained. But to examine one of her own so closely...

Well, to her own knowledge, no Irken had ever done so before.

Why would they?

There hadn't been a history of a rogue Irken yet (at least not that the race knew of). Irkens trusted each other. The data in their paks programmed them to. An Irken face was a friendly face...at least, for other Irkens. For any other, it was the face of doom and destruction.

And, in a way, that was pretty much Zim's face for everyone.

But analyzing and interrogating a fellow Irken...even _Zim_...felt...personal. To contemplate a possible overthrow of the smaller fellow left a foul stench in the very core of her being. Her loyalty to her mission had since then wavered...but to her people...

...not entirely so.

She watched as Zim arced an eye at the bot as he tossed himself across the floor, running as fast as he could toward the Voot, "Woo! You flew right through the windshield!"

Following Zim's march, she found the robot spoke the truth. The front casing of her Voot contained a rather large hole in its center, the rest of the vehicle battered and bruised for worse. From the angle she stood, she guesstimated engine damage as well as possible fuel containment malfunction. She would have to spend a decent amount of time to properly get it back in working order. With a small sigh, Tenn rubbed her head. At least she had the tools required in this repair bay. Antennae lifting, she glanced at Zim when he spoke, though not at all about the damaged pitiful mess before them, or rather, not the _same_ damaged pitiful mess before them.

"The Tallest gifted me with an advanced model assembled specifically for this mission." Zim stated nonchalantly, gathering a few tools from the floor as he decided best. He tossed them onto a push cart, rolling it adjacent to the Voot, and eager to ride, GIR jumped onto the bottom tray, poking his head out as his metallic hands clutched the side bars desperately, "BUMPER CARS!"

"No bumper cars! Get out of there, GIR! I have work to do!"

"BUM-PER _CARS_!" the bot replied in a deeper tone, shaking the cart and jetting it back into Zim's gut.

"GOH! Why you little–" Thrusting the cart forward and yanking it back, Zim forced the android to roughly flip out onto the floor. Face against the metallic ground, the droid giggled. "I smacka my head. Do it again!" Eyes scrunching, Zim gripped the nearest wrench tightly, growling under his breath, "Don't tempt me." he uttered, brushing off the offended area. Glancing at the Voot, Zim swung the tool onto his shoulder, tilting his head, and with the most dangerous of softest tones, he coaxed the little robot from his nonsense jabber, "Oh, GIR...look what time it is. You're missing your favorite show. That..._monkey_ one."

Leaping to his feet in milliseconds flat, the bot grabbed the sides of his face, focal lenses curving in dire concern, "Oh no! I'm missing it! I'M MISSING IT!" he screeched, immediately running toward the elevator and diving in. Tenn stared at the shutting doors, wincing as the bot screeched, "MONKEYYYY!" on his way up until the reverberations were too far to carry down. Turning on her heel, Tenn felt the silence of confusion inquire her very thoughts as Zim shrugged, "It's a stupid broadcast the creatures of this planet transmit for entertainment. GIR's trained himself to withstand them. Or they never bothered him in the first place. I never can tell with that robot."

Tapping her cheek, Tenn clutched her elbow, antennae flattening, "He seems very...eager. His, uh,...free will seems to allow a bit of rambunctious judgment, doesn't it?" She couldn't help but question his reasoning, "Why not modulate that into a more stable obedience? Wouldn't keeping him so open minded allow for possible service denial?"

Her reply was a long blank stare, awkward and unblinking as if he were reliving a short memory of long ago.

With a quick head shake, Zim was back, and shoved the wrench into Tenn's grip, "GIR is perfectly suitable for this planet's conquest. Sort of. Honestly, he fits in with the pig smellies better than you'd think. It's his _focus_ that requires a tune up every once in a while..." he muttered more to himself than to anyone else. Checking through the tools he had, Zim marched over to the center generator, pulling up a holographic screen and fiddling with the diagnostics of the Voot itself, setting a scan for all forms of damage, external and internal. It would only take a few seconds at most.

"And that...Minimoose?" Tenn questioned curiously, tapping the wrench lightly in her palm.

"Oh _I_ made _him_." the smaller Irken smiled proudly, eyes closing in fondness over the small creation, "He's a massive super weapon with some wicked scary offensive and defensive mechanisms built into him. He is the perfect unquestioning loyal minion and he's all mine." Zim singsonged dotingly, wrapping his arms around himself for a brief moment with a poked tongue. The glow of fuzzies immediately died as his hands attacked the screen once more, eyes knitting dourly, "In every aspect that GIR _lacks_, Minimoose makes up for tenfold. It's only right that I should have a fully capable team of minions to do my bidding. Computer! Lift the Voot!"

The platform that the damaged vehicle had been resting on propelled just enough for decent walking space, and peering under, Tenn winced. The entirety of the belly had been ripped to shreds from Zim's reception dish, pieces of the grey metal piercing through the shell of the cruiser.

Repairing the ship might take even longer than she had realized.

"So where's _your_ SIR? I _know_ you were assigned one. I was there."

So he had been.

Her eyes knit softly as her hand rested along her side, feeling the lump still there. She smiled, a gentle relief that she hadn't lost it in the crash. "STAT was heavily damaged from an enemy attack..." she uttered, mind crossing over the most ridiculous failure of her entire life, but shook her head as she continued on, "However, I managed to save her memory processor. It was shameful to watch the rest of her be obliterated, but I couldn't do much. The damage was too extensive for repairs." she ended quietly, glancing at Zim for a brief moment.

"If you have any spare parts, I would like to utilize them. STAT would be rather useful to me during my duration here."

Eyes knitting, Zim glanced over his shoulder, "Why would you need a SIR if your only duty is observation?" he questioned suspiciously. Sighing lightly, Tenn's eyes flattened dully, quite aware of the curiosity behind his question. He truly believed she was trying to stab at his mission. If she had honestly wanted it, she would have had it by now, but Tenn had no interest in the conquest of this planet. If she could remain far from where any respectable Irken was still lingering, it would be all she could hope for. That, and never having to face The Tallest again. A chill ran down her spine as she did her best to avoid the thought. Their looming presence was enough to buckle her knees.

"I like to carry my snacks with me. Don't you?"

Zim's eyes popped, gazing off before his eyes knit once more, "GIR's head is filthy...he sticks all kinds of things in there." Pressing the floating image of the Voot, a laundry list of damages filed onto the screen, cutting their work out for them, "Everything but what I need him to." she caught him mutter under his breath before he marched over and jetted a thumb, "Well, it looks like the Cruiser is in need of some major repairs, so...have fun." Tucking his arms behind himself, Zim spun on his heel, ready to march off before Tenn stepped over into his path.

"Hmm?"

"And where are you off to in such a rush?" she muttered darkly, wrench resting in the nook of her shoulder.

"I have school in four hours and my attendance is required. I also have a paper to write about some primal war the Earth worms brought upon themselves. Pitiful, really." he shrugged, but Tenn tilted her head curiously.

"An educational facility?" she murmured in thought, antennae lifting for a moment. "That's brilliant..." she thought aloud, though missed Zim's grin as she fell into her own analysis. Using a planet's educational facilities against it? Why hadn't she gone about her mission that way? It was a rather informative way to obtain the data she would have needed, and it would have kept her low key...not that her way had been wrong by any means. Interrogating the leaders of the Meekrob hadn't been the easiest of tasks, especially since she had to earn their trust as an intern of their court. Obtaining that position had been a hassle as well. But Zim was passing himself off as a student...being trained in the ways of Earthlings. Surely he had gained an extensive amount of survival information during his duration on this planet by now.

"Perhaps having you around isn't _entirely _heinous...but I still don't trust you. You haven't written down a thing about me! I doubt The Tallest would approve of that." he huffed, but Tenn's antennae flattened as she glanced down at him.

"I've only just arrived Zim. It's been a long trip."

Contemplating her words, the Irken nodded, "This_ is_ a rather far corner of the universe...the _singing_..."

He twitched for a moment, leaving Tenn completely clueless to his memories, but she only waved her hand at him, turning on her heel, "Off to your paper then. I'll be repairing this for a few hours. Then I want to inspect this planet for myself. I trust you have sufficient data logged in?"

"Of course." he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Excellent. I'll sort through a disguise later. I have quite a bit of work to do."

Her first step was shaky as the entire base seemed to rattle in place, the echo of an explosion not too far off. Bits of debris and tile rained on them, though it was the computer who coughed in recoup. Eyes darting up, Tenn glanced at Zim as he dusted himself off with a growl, "_GIIIIR_!"

"I didn't do it!" whined the bot through an intercom, but the rouge emergency lights flickered and cycled as the main inner glow of the base dimmed into shadow play. The platform lowered back to the ground level, stabilizing the Voot in place as the screens voided all diagnostic scans and replaced them with an orthographic blueprint of the base itself. A few levels above their own seemed to be glowing on the screen, "Warning! The containment unit Experiment 451 has dismantled. Emergency lock down mode." the computer announced, and from all around any open chambers were immediately cut off, barriers of the thickest metals locking in place.

"It's loose." the computer added nonchalantly.

Arcing an eye toward the ceiling, Zim hung his body forward, arms dangling in frustration before sighing darkly, "Always _something_. The energy reserve in the base is being utilized for security purposes."

"_What_ is loose?" questioned Tenn, clutching the wrench tightly as her eyes immediately adjusted to the light. Scanning the area, the room seemed just as empty as it had been when they first entered, but upon knowing _something_ was a potential danger, she could never be too careful.

"Experiment 451... –Jim."

Lowering her now weapon, Tenn eyes flattened as Zim's tone indicated a much more sinister concept than originally assumed. Within a whir of a second, his external extender legs released and carried him up the generator and along the ceiling of the level, digging through wiring with his hands and grunting all the while, "Until _Jim_ is contained, the power levels of the main core will be insufficiently low for any reparations. And using anything over a certain fraction of allowance will result in total system shut down. Either way, both options require the fail safe passcode, and only_ I_ know it."

Shoulders slouching back, Tenn tilted her head back as the legs brought him back down, "What is it?"

"849-293-PaNcAkEs."

A moment of silence passed between them as Zim's eyes popped, falling into a sour growl. He had to pay more attention to the information he blurted...

"But it's all voice and genetic data activated so it won't do a thing for you even with that information!" he hissed quickly, antennae flattening in irritation. Another explosion tossed his current mindset, knocking him off his feet. Crouching down, Tenn gathered her footing, antennae perked and curious. She had hoped for a quiet night to gather her thoughts...formuate her plan further, but it seemed that would have to wait. Zim seemed to stir trouble on his own accord...onto himself.

"I suppose observation begins now." she muttered, glancing toward the other Irken, "Your call, Invader Zim."

* * *

**Author Note**: _I'm so glad you guys are really enjoying this! I love to entertain. And one reviewer had questioned about script writing -Yes, I do that, too. I've written a pilot for an intended television series and other scripts, too. I tend to over describe and I'll have to weed away descriptions for those, since scripting is rather bare, and storyboarders are the ones who fill in the meat descriptions. Blah, blah, blah, I'm going to eat food now. Enjoy!_


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